


Of Cats and Curses

by ZombVampProductions



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curses, Domination, M/M, Submission, Wincest - Freeform, Witches, heat cycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombVampProductions/pseuds/ZombVampProductions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Never mess with the trinkets of a witch.' Where was this rule book because Sam obviously needs to read it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Cats and Curses

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written story by:  
> Shybutdeadly: Kristin  
> Akamichi17: Mary
> 
> Let it be known that we are not bragging about our editing skills at the end of the story. Mary was simply stating that the editing did indeed take forever, it is a pretty long story to process through. We cannot strain enough that we KNOW that there will still be errors within the story because we do get tired and it all just becomes tedious to us so once we are done, we are friggen done, no if, ands, or buts about it. So if you think we are bragging about our "mad editing skills" then keep it to yourself, because we both have some stress going in our lives and we don't need stupid comments. If anything be USEFUL and tell us our mistakes, give some constructive criticism instead so we DON'T feel the need to strangle you -_- Until then, please just enjoy the story and either ignore the few (or more) errors within it, or please give us some helpful advice on maybe watching out for errors or picking up on them and let us know so we can fix them instead of criticizing the errors themselves. Thank you and we will appreciate everything you all will have to say, unless it's entirely stupid and troll worthy. If it's stupid and troll worthy, it will be deleted, fair warning. 
> 
> (To be honest I can't believe I had to write this. -_-)

 

Fair warning now: Sex ensues. Of the Wincest variety. Not your cup of tea, don't read.

 

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Supernatural characters, we just use them for our (mostly my) own pleasure and then return them well sated~

Oh, and we don't own anything White Collar related either, just started watching it and Kris couldn't resist inserting that little cross-over moment.

 

 

If there was one thing Dean despised more than demons, heavenly douche-bag angels, and leafy greens, it had to be witches that took the number one spot in his list of most annoying pests in the world. With their crappy charms, useless little antiques, and stupid gods nobody even relatively remembers anymore. 

 

It took weeks for him and Sam to track this bitch down, and now that they finally had her in their sights, there was no way they were going to let her escape this motel alive. 

 

Dean pressed the binoculars close, making a swift run of their location to make sure no human would be sticking their nose into their personal business. Coast seemingly clear, he peaked in through the witch's window, watching as she hastily paced her room, grabbing various herbs and charms, well, at least that's what it looked like from his point of view. 

 

Nodding his head toward Sam, they both make quick work of exiting the impala. Using the shadows to their advantage, they plastered themselves against the cool walls of the cheap raggedy motel. Step by agonizingly slow step they made it to the second floor unnoticed, much to their own surprise, things usually went bad right about now, maybe it was their lucky day? 

 

Ducking under the window Dean pressed himself against one side of the door while Sam occupied the other. Looking over at Sam, he gave them til the count of three. 

 

One...

 

Two...

 

The-

 

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!” Dean's eyes widened at the high pitched screech, without a moments hesitation he kicked the door clean off it's hinges and ran inside.

 

Dean was pointing his gun toward the source of the scream trying to take everything in the small dingy motel in at once. Sam came up quick behind him, quickly pointing his gun first left, looked safe, then right, also safe, before his gun joined Dean's toward the witch. When he realized she was laying dead on the floor in a pool of blood, gashes raked across her front side, he quickly checked the room once again. Seeing nothing, he slowly pointed his gun toward the ceiling, muscles still on high alert.

 

Dean began doing his own check of the room as Sam knelt down by the girl, he couldn't risk anyone coming up on them with their guard down.

 

Sam looked up at Dean and gave a small shake of his head, signaling the woman didn't have a pulse that he could feel and stood back up.

 

"Jesus Dean, what the Hell happened in the few seconds for us to get to the door? What could have gotten in here and killed her so quickly?" Sam asked rhetorically, after all, he didn't care much that the woman was dead anyway, that was what they were coming to do tonight. Kill her.

 

Dean puffed air through his nose as he looked down at the woman. Attractive enough, you know, in a shredded up piece of meat kind of way. Kneeling down beside her he examined the grooves of the cuts. They were pretty deep, whatever it was meant business, and just like them, wanted this woman dead. If anything, even more than themselves. 

 

Hand against his cheek, he thought up a few possibilities; the marks rubbed him the wrong way, just enough to make him know it was something they have come into contact with. That's when it hit him like a ton of bricks resting against his chest, slowly knocking precious air from his depriving lungs. He knew these marks all to well, he personally obtained a few of his own, making a one way trip to Hell itself. 

 

“Hellhound,” he mumbles in a trance, just staring at the grotesque gashes as if he were trying to see past the meat and nerves to the bones cracked beneath. “Only question is, wh-achew!” Falling back in the slightest, Dean sniffled and rubbed the sleeve of his jacket against his nose, wiping away the snot that made it out along with the sneeze.

 

“What the hell?” Looking around a sort of weight settled against his shoulders as he finally took in his surroundings. Cats, cats fucking everywhere! Cat clocks, cat mugs, cat charms, actual cats meowing at them curiously as they huddled together in the corners of the room. “Out of all the fucking witches! We get stuck with the Cat Lady!” 

 

Sam rolled his eyes as he also finally took in their surroundings, there were indeed cats. And lots of them as they slowly began coming out of the shadows, sets upon sets of eyes staring at the two men still in the room standing over their care-taker's body.

 

"Dean, what do you make of this?" Sam asked, holding up a statue of some kind of person with a cat's head. It was probably Egyptian something or other by the looks of it. 

 

“I'll tell you what it is, it's a creepy fucking cat statue that deserves to rot in the lowest pits of hell along with our little wicked witch of the west here,” Dean scoffed as he glared daggers at the cats whose bravery out shined the rest to try and get an up close look at the woman who once fed and cared for them. 

 

To be fair, Dean didn't necessarily hate cats in general, he just hated the fact that they made him sneeze until he was blue in the face. “Achew! ACHEW! Alright! That's it man I'm out of here. I'll see you in the car. ACHEW! FUCK!” Dean raced out of the house with such speed it would put a cheetah to shame, which that in itself was a pretty hilarious concept. 

 

Sam tried to keep the smirk off his face but as soon as Dean was safely out of sight, his entire face split in a grin as he set the statue down to reach down and pet one of the cats that came out to see why Sam was there.

 

"Ow," Sam muttered to himself as he was pricked by something on the statue as he set it down. Pulling the finger to his mouth to keep the blood from dripping everywhere (not that it was that bad), he reached his other hand down to scratch behind the curious cat's ears, grin still on his face.

 

Finally assessing there was nothing further he could do in the room, Sam made his way back to the Impala, placing an anonymous tip to the local cops about the woman in the motel. Maybe someone would care for her death.

 

"Man, whatever was on the statue pricked me pretty damn good when I set it down," Sam said with a frown as he slipped into the Impala, Dean throwing it in gear, not getting away from the motel or the cats quick enough. 

 

Dean gave the small nick a fleeting gaze before settling his eyes back onto the road ahead. Though it was just a small little prick, knowing Sam was wounded was enough to set his nerves a flame and muscles tense before reassuring himself just how lucky and fine Sam actually was to be able to walk away with that messy cut. If the witch happened to be alive when they went inside, Dean had a sneaking suspicion both of them would be walking away with a lot more then just a prick from some old cat relic. 

 

“Just a small cut, we'll get it taken care of when we get back to the batcave. Until then, try not to faint from blood loss eh twinkle toes?” Dean gave his brother a lopsided grin, though he didn't seem to be amused by his words, Dean sure as hell did, but if he didn't appreciate his own humor then who would.

 

Sam sent Dean an annoyed glance before turning to look back out the window, pressing his finger to his pant's leg to stop the light blood flow completely.

 

"It's just a nick, it doesn't need "taking care of"," he muttered grumpily, relaxing into the seat next to Dean anyway, knowing a "nick" was the best outcome of the situation and they were both lucky to still be okay and not have to deal with that witch and her spells that would likely leave them a little worse for wear. Leaning his head against the window he watched what little scenery pass that he could in the darkness.

 

The rest of ride home consisted of silence between the two men as the soft melody of Queen's “We are the Champions” kept the driver from asking many unnecessary question that even Sam wouldn't know the answer to. 

 

The job was done without getting their hands dirty, it should be a win win situation really, but something just didn't sit right with Dean. Nothing in their life went _this_ smoothly, somewhere along the lines the other shoe was going to drop and he was going to have to be ready for it. 

 

–

 

Dean stretched his limbs upon entering their newly acquired home, the feeling of comfort and familiarity washing over him, making his muscles, for once, go slack.

 

“If that wound of yours doesn't need any healing, then I'm going to head off to bed,” he grinned enthusiastically as he leered at the clock. “Eleven o' clock, and I'm going to bed! It's definitely the simple things in life everyone should enjoy,” with a wink and a click of his tongue towards Sam, he strayed off toward **his** room. 

 

Sam just gave a small smile and a soft, "Yeah. Night Dean," before heading off to his own room. His own stomach was in knots as well. Their life was never this simple... So what had changed? Why was everything suddenly going so smoothly?

 

Sam lay on his bed staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what the catch was to such an easy night.

 

\- 

 

He didn't know when he had finally fallen asleep last night, but Sam woke up to his alarm going off. Stretching his arms way up above his head and arching his back to help himself wake up, he let out a content sigh. Rolling around on the sheets to sit up, he grabbed one of his comfortable plaid shirts and carelessly stuck his arms through it as he made his way to the kitchen, not bothering with any pants since he was already wearing boxers. Grabbing a bowl out of one of the cupboards and the milk from the fridge, he poured the milk into the bowl and began drinking it.

 

Not only did Sam have a, for once, restful sleep, Dean himself fell asleep almost instantaneously once his head sunk deep into his fluffy pillow. Waking up on his own accord, he let out a soft groan; rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palms. Blinking away the rest of the sleep, he shuffled from the warm blankets that cocooned him as he slept. 

 

Bleary eyed, yet still in a state of relax, he made his way into the kitchen, bypassing Sam completely on turn to make some good morning coffee. Nothing says “I'm awake” like a good dose of caffeine.

 

A load yawn escaped him as he pressed the button to start up the coffee machine, a mug stationed right below it just like every morning. 

 

Dragging his feet he, opened up a cupboard and took out a bowl, ready to make himself some cereal to go with his morning Cup of Joe. 

 

Beginning to hum a small tune, he finally looked up at Sam, his face falling. His body immediately on full alert as he stared at his brother who was lapping, fucking **lapping,** at his bowl of milk with his arms crossed and tucked under his chest. And if that wasn't the craziest thing, then the brown tail that came out of his backside and swished around as if content, might just do the trick! And if **that** didn't seem weird enough then lets go right to the ears that twitched lightly atop the shaggy mop of brown hair!

 

“Um Sam....,” Sam turned to him, his own face contorted in confusion at Dean's freaked out expression. “What...the...fuck! And I mean LITERALLY what the actual FUCK!?” 

 

"Dude? What are you talking about?" Sam asked, his confusion clear as day on his face. What he didn't notice was that his ears had perked up trying to figure out what was wrong with Dean and his tail was twitching agitatedly.

 

Dean didn't even dignify him with a proper response as he just gestured wildly at Sam's head...and backside? What the hell?

 

Feeling something brush against his leg, back and forth, back and forth, he finally glanced back and paled slightly at the long brown _tail_ that was coming out from under his boxers.

 

Twisting his body around in circles, trying to get a better look at the extra appendage, he could not believe he had a freaking **tail** for crying out loud! 

 

Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't amused by the site of his brother chasing his very own tail. It was attached to his backside, it wasn't going anywhere, so all of his desperate twists and turns to get a good look at the newly obtained appendage was hilarious to say the least. 

 

“Ok man enough of that, you're making _me_ wanna barf with all you little ballerina turns,” seemingly enough, the words seemed to have went right through one of Sam's ears only to come out of the other. Something Dean had done for years whenever Sam opened his big mouth of his.

 

Grabbing Sam's arm in a stilling grip he finally got the antsy Cat Man to settle and stay in one place, for the moment anyway. 

 

“Look, I'm just as freaked about this as you ok! But chasing your tail like some mentally disordered cat ain't going to do you any go-ACHEW!!!” Dean's body launched back as he sneezed violently. His mouth agape and eyes wide at the realization of just what was in store for him now. “Ohhh fuuuuuck!” after that brilliant statement, more sneezes began to fly from Dean's nose, along with various other substances... 

 

If Sam hadn't still been confused about his own _tail_ , he would have been laughing his ass off at Dean's allergies, literally _to him_.

 

"Dude. We gotta figure out how to change this," another loud sneeze follow by a "shit" from Dean, "fast." Sam added, his amusement finally starting to show as he tried, and failed, to keep his lips from smiling at Dean's misfortune. However, amusement could quickly turn into annoyance if all he heard for next...however long this was going to last, was Dean's sneezing, every 5 or so seconds... 

 

“I completely agree! Achew!” With a loud frustrated groan Dean sought out a cloth, any kind of cloth, to just completely suffocate himself with, because not breathing was better then sneezing because Cat Sam was of close proximity. 

 

Searching though the piles upon piles of boxes, he found something even better than a cloth. Without a second thought he put the surgical mask over his head and sighed in relief as it covered his nose and mouth. 

 

“I don't know how much more of this I can take...and it's only been a few minutes!”

 

Sam couldn't get the full-blown grin off of his face at how ridiculous Dean looked with the surgical mask he had found and put on.

 

"Dude, that thing must be ancient! I can smell it from here," he said with a frown of distaste at said smell. 

 

“Well it's better then smelling you at the moment!” Dean fought back, though his argument was anything but invalid given the circumstance he was shoved into. 

 

Combing his fingers through his choppy hair, he thought up the possibilities on how Sam could have turned into a half human half cat person, thing. 

 

“So what? You just woke up like this?” He gestured with his eyes up and down Sam's tall frame, from his pointy cat ears, right down to that restless tail.

 

"I guess?" He didn't sound sure of his answer at all.

 

"Look, all I know is that when you came into the kitchen and got a good look at me, you started freaking out. I didn't know what about and I looked down and I had a tail," Sam explained, he still hasn't really seen the ears. The expression on his face when he does ought to be good though! 

 

Dean's brow rose in a “Really!?” sort of fashion. Slowly, unsure about getting too close at the moment, he made his way over to Sam who was eying him suspiciously. Everything, namely his nose, in check he reached up with both hands and pulled at the ears that seemed to have wanted to flinch away with his oncoming touch. As they tried to pull away between his fingertips, they had a right to want to flinch away. 

 

“Congratulations you're a furry!” Finally Dean released Sam's squirming ears who reached up and gave them a small pat at the vicious abuse to his new listening tools.

 

"Ow! Man, what the hell?" Sam asked as Dean pulled on his ears.

 

His visibly paled at Dean's words, "Not cool, Dean." A furry?! Seriously?! What kind of sick person would turn someone else into a "furry" while they slept!

 

"Okay. We seriously have to change this. Like, 10 minutes ago," Sam said, forgetting his bowl of milk and practically running to his own baby, his computer, to search for some kind of clue and start looking for a cure! 

 

“I'm right behind you....figuratively speaking though. I'm not taking any chances here.” Dean admitted easily as he stood a few steps behind Sam. Looking over his shoulder he tried to see just what the furry man had in mind, though that was easier said than done, those fucking ears had a mind of their own. Was either that or Sam was purposely moving those fluffy things around so he couldn't see as some sort of pay back.

 

"Chicken," Sam muttered under his breath, hearing Dean's frustrated grunts because his ears kept blocking his vision, Sam once again had a grin plastered to his face. Serves him right.

 

Searching through the sites that popped up, he found one on some kind of cat goddess that the Egyptians believed in. Pulling up the link in a new tab, he read further into it. 

 

For a moment there Dean actually thought he had finally got himself into the right position to see just what the hell Sam was looking for. First it was a few things about cats in general, then something about voodoo cat dolls, and some more things along the cat variety. 

 

The title of the new website Sam tracked read “The Almighty Goddess Bastet” which seemed to have perked Sam's interest for his ears stood at attention, once again blocking Dean's view of the computer screen entirely. 

 

Tired being shunned by cat ears of all things, Dean closed the small gap between him and Sam and rested his chin right on the big lugs head, right in between those devil ears.

 

Sam couldn't stop the twitching of his ears in their limited space with Dean's head in the way. This of course caused them to continuously brush against the small exposed part of Dean's skin the thin mask didn't cover.

 

Grumbling, Sam just summarized the little bit that the site had about the Goddess to Dean to make him happy, "Basically it says Bastet used to be a lioness goddess but lost her popularity and then became a cat goddess... It says here she protected the people... Maybe a goddess that got mad from going to a fierce lioness to a simple cat?" Sam suggested, his confusion stating his serious doubt in the theory. 

 

If Dean was to be frank, this pronounced cat goddess did seem like the missing piece to their unorthodox of a puzzle. It wouldn't be the first time they pissed off some form of almighty god, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The one thing that didn't make sense though is just what exactly could they have done to tick her off so much that she would give Sam the features of a cat?

 

“Maybe she's pretty hissy about us trying to kill one of, or only, her followers? It's not like many people believe in many of these gods anymore so I can see how doing that could rustle the little pussy cat's fur,” that was Dean's input at least, but it wasn't like they actually were able to go through with killing the witch so why this is happening was still a mystery needing to be solved. 

 

"Hey, it shows a picture here further down. It's exactly like the statue that I picked up at that witch's house. The one that pricked me. Think there could be anything to it?" Sam asked as he looked back over his shoulder at Dean, his ears perked up once again in hopes that maybe this could solve his _problem_ of his tail and ears. 

 

A few various thoughts ran across Dean's mind; not that he didn't want to get to the bottom of this himself, he also wasn't to keen on going back to the crazy Cat Lady's house only to be ambushed again by her furry companions. But, if it meant getting Sam back to his normal nerdy self that he knew and loved....

 

“Well it's the only lead we have,” trifling though one of their own Winchester exclusive cardboard box he pulled out a pair of cotton fabric pants with white undershirt and black suit and completed with stiff black tie. Tossing it in Sam's direction he watched amusingly as the shirt covered Sam's head, undershirt draping over his chest, and pants falling misguidedly to the floor.

 

“Suit up Cat Man, outta be some cops snooping around the place by now,” grabbing his own suit while he spoke he laughed his way back into his own room to change. 

 

Sam gathered the clothes up with a huff before going to his own room to change. Once changed he came back out calling for Dean.

 

"Uh, Dean. I think we might have a problem here..." he called from the main living space. Once Dean appeared, with a few jibes of him not being able to dress on his own and needing some help from his "big brother", Sam just wordlessly pointed to his ears that were still twitching around, this time in slight annoyance at Dean's words. Man, how the hell was he supposed to hide how he was feeling if the damn things never stopped moving?! 

 

Well those ears did complicate things in the slightest, don't suppose the cops could believe he's a huge fan of cats and just placed a fake pair of cat ears on his head just for this certain assignment would they? 

 

A light bulb flashed eccentrically right over Dean's head as an idea came to mind. Making a “one moment” hand gesture he jogged back into his room to retrieve the item that would help Sam become a member of society once more. 

 

With a grin plastered across his face he tossed the hat, well fedora, like a frisbee right to Sam who easily caught it in one massive hand. 

 

“There you go Neal Caffrey,” Dean jabbed with the same smug smirk that spoke volumes. “How would you live without me~”

 

Sam just rolled his eyes even though he was secretly pleased. He didn't usually get to wear fedoras so this was a bit of a treat really! Looking in a mirror he managed to wrestle with his ears before finally getting them just right so he could place the hat on at an angle like fedoras were worn in the 20s!

 

"How do I look?" No hiding that one. He was positively beaming, a huge grin covering his face nearly ear to ear. 

 

Dean couldn't suppress a small smile at the tone and appreciative expression, not that he would admit to anyone, he always had sort of a kink for fedoras. So as Sam stood there, sporting off that said kink, the oldest hunter couldn't help but be a little aroused, but this wasn't the time to fulfill such needs, so like everything else that Dean tries to mask, he mask's it with good ol' sarcasm.

 

“Look like a man trying to hide cat ears,” he deadpanned which didn't go unnoticed by Sam whose face instantly fell. Guilt ebbed easily into Dean's heart, sometimes he wished he had that little voice in his head that Sam obviously has, and tells him when to keep his trap shut.

 

“I mean, you um, you look good Sam. I mean if we weren’t on a case right now I'd be all over you,” ok Dean, just shut your mouth already! 

 

Sam perked up at Dean's words once again, his grin back on his face. That was definitely getting filed away for future reference!

 

"Well then. Shall we go back to the witch's house?" Sam asked, adding as an after thought before heading out the door laughing. "Before I decide to take you up on that offer~" Thankfully Dean couldn't hear the delighted purr that came from within him as he closed the door behind him. Ugh, they really needed to get this taken care of... 

 

“Yeah,” ignoring the almost painful twitch in his pants, Dean grabbed his suit jacket before following Sam's lead out the door, “right behind you.”

 

–

 

“Agent Burke and Agent Caffrey, FBI.” Dean announced on arrival to the crime scene, efficiently showing his badge as identification. As for the names, well, it was just too easy to pass up. 

 

The small town cop took a small gander at their badges before shifting his gaze back at the two supposed agents. 

 

“Word spreads like wildfire to you guys huh?” It wasn't necessarily a question as it was more of a fact in his eyes. 

 

“Well I do my job and you do yours,” a cocky smirk played across Dean's face as the cop rolled his eyes and ordered them to follow into the motel room they just planned on infiltrating the night before. 

 

"So, any idea about what caused this?" Sam asked as he looked up from his slightly kneeling position on the floor close to the body, trying not to frown from the god-awful smell it was emitting.

 

"We were thinking it had to be some kind of mountain lion that found its way down here. What else could cause those kinds of cut wounds on the thoracic area?" The cop asked rhetorically, not really expecting an answer from the two "agents".

 

All of a sudden Sam stiffened in his slightly knelt position, his ears twitching crazy inside his hat. The cats from last night were still there, and they must have remembered his scent because Sam could hear them meowing from their hidden positions. This was not going to end well... For him or Dean...

 

'Meow~' the same cat from last night was again the first to come out, snuggling up to and purring against Sam's legs, stepping up onto his bent knee to try and get further attention. Sam felt his own purrs try to well up and out his throat. It must have been a cat thing.

 

Once the one cat started purring like it was going out of style, the rest of the... Sam stopped to count them, exactly 23 cats, came out to nuzzle further against Sam and, consequently, Dean as well since he was standing just over Sam's shoulder to pretend to look at the body he'd already seen. 

 

Dean's whole body stiffened as something solid pressed against the back of his leg. Slowly he looked down to see not one, not two, but three cats clawing at his pants legs and nuzzle the back of his kneecap.

 

“Oh hell no,” as quickly as he could, without causing harm to the fragile creatures, he stepped away from the mewling cats that begged for his attention. As much as he wished for it not to be true, the damage was already done and his nose was set ablaze. He sneezed loudly followed by irritating sniffling afterwords.

 

The same cop that granted them entrance even had the nerve to not only look smug, but laugh at his expense. 

 

“Not a fan of cats I presume Agent Burke?” Oh what Dean wouldn't give to be able to walk up and viciously assault that smart aleck of a cop. 

 

“Everything's peachy,” Dean forced from his teeth as he made his way over to Sam who was cooing and petting the cats adoringly. Fucking cats, first they kill his nose, now their trying to bring Sam into their little cult full of evil cat stuff. Next thing he knows Sam's bringing home dead mice as a symbol of love. Ugh. 

 

Fingers curling into Sam's shoulder, he leaned in close enough to whisper into his ear, “Come on, let's hurry up and find that damn statue before I go to jail for knocking a cop's teeth down his throat.”

 

Sam looked up at Dean, his pupils dilated and an adoring look on his face as he nuzzled with the cats.

 

Staring into Dean's eyes after a few moments he finally realized what he was doing and coughed loudly to cover up the purrs that had started coming from him to go along with the other cats. He nodded his head toward a desk that, naturally, was in plain view of everyone, letting Dean know where the statue was. He was still trying to drag his muscles back to an awakened state so he was a bit sluggish. Damn, what was with these cats? 

 

Dean rose his brow before realizing, he just didn't want to hear an explanation over why his brother was purring along with a bunch of cats. Strolling over the where Sam had gestured to, he was greeted with the site of their “prize”.

 

“Hellooo creepy cat statue,” he mumbled to no one in particular. Unzipping the plastic bad he had been carrying around this whole time, he gingerly nestled the stature right in the suffocating plastic confines. 

 

Just his stroke of luck, as he was ready to just book it out of the room, did he notice a bound leather book. Spell book maybe? Journal? Whatever it may have been, maybe it could be the key to finding out if whatever was happening to Sam was a spell gone horribly wrong, or the work of some higher power. 

 

Straining his eyes, he peered over his shoulder to see all the cops inside, or otherwise, being preoccupied with their current objective. Hand already resting against the book he brought it to a tighter grip and pulled it to himself. With nobody looking in his general direction he slipped the book inside his suit pocket.

 

“Well I think that's all the investigating we have time for today. We'll scout this statue for any sort of hair or blood sample and we'll make our own analysis,” tapping Sam on the shoulder as he walked by, he signaled for their departure, but not before the cats gave him a little goodbye of their own.

 

“Ahh...ahhh...Achew!! Son of a bitch!”

 

Sam stood up as Dean tapped him on the shoulder to leave. His ears did wince slightly from Dean's loud sneeze and following curse, but he also had to hide his laughter in another cough which he explained to the other cops as "must be coming down with something", before making his escape with Dean back to the impala where they could figure this out from there... And hopefully Sam could get this horribly restraining suit off... 

 

Once stowed away in the safety his baby provided, Dean pulled out that stashed away journal. Sam gave him a curious look from the passenger seat but didn't make comment about it just yet, wanting to know the contents inside before he made any sort of assumption. 

 

Skimming through the pages Dean came to realize this was some sort of dairy or log, whatever you'd liked to call it now days. It had various dates within, none of them consistent with each other but each date thorough nonetheless. 

 

Most of it was boring to say the least, some of it talked about some cat she stumbled upon right down to how horrible life had become, and how work never gave her a break, yadda yadda, bitch, bitch. Well, that is until something very interesting peaked his interest. 

 

“Hmm seems like our little wicked witch didn't become wicked on her own. 10 years ago she apparently decided to sell her soul so she could do some “totally cool witch moves”,” with a shake of his head at the sheer stupidity of the single sentence Dean handed over the journal for Sam to take a look at. 

 

Sam re-read what Dean had read aloud to him but shook his head, "It doesn't say where she met the demon at or what the demon's name was. I doubt Crowley keeps track of his pet's actions _that_ well." Sam joked lightly, after all, what else was there to do in this type of situation.

 

"Do you think it might be worth a shot anyway?" He looked to Dean for an answer, who knew, maybe it would work...

 

“I think it's as good as shot as any,” putting his baby in gear he sat there steadily just listening to that beautiful engine purr to life...or was that just Sam? “Looks like demon hunting season is on.” Tires scratching against pavement they made their way west, might as well check the local cross roads first. Something that, once again, Dean personally knew a thing or two about. Going back to one wasn't his idea of a good time, but for Sam, he would go to hell and back a second time around if he knew that was what would bring him back to some sort of normalcy. Let's just hope they don't have to look long...

 

Sam kept quiet for most of the ride until Dean got to the crossroad. Once they had everything set up, a couple of devil's traps placed around the area as a precaution, Sam stood outside the crossroads, letting Dean take this one and summon the demon. He was beginning to get a little antsy having his tail confined and what not.

 

With a calming breath, Dean buried the small box with a few memento’s inside, right smack dab in the middle where the crossroads joined together. Standing at full height once more, he looked around for any sign of the demon that would be joining them.

 

For a moment it was quiet, nothing but his breath filling his ears until the gravely voice of either a heavy smoker, or someone who really should lay off the gravel in the morning. 

 

“Dean Winchester? Hm, and what do I owe the pleasure?” The skin of the demon was of a woman, though not of a very attractive one, one might say. Her hair was ginger, gray peaking around her crown, scratchy thick clumps of hair that looked none to appealing; though he doesn't see too many men, or otherwise, running their fingers though that rat's nest. Her eyes sunken in, her teeth as yellow as a children's school bus, and don't even get Dean started on that huge mole that stared right at him from it's residence on her cheek.

 

“Well...this is new....never met a demon so desperate for a soul they used a goblin as their meat suit. I gotta say, makes me glad I'm not here to make a deal.” feigning relief, Dean wiped his brow of the imaginary sweat that gathered.

 

The woman frowned, expecting as much. 

 

“Then what makes you think I'm just going to stand here and be insulted all day!? Not many people around here, I took what I could get!”

 

“Well for one thing, you're stupid and you stepped directly into the **decoy** devil's trap,” with wide eyes the woman looked down and as Dean had just announced, she had indeed stepped right into a devil's trap without even thinking about it. 

 

“Though I can't blame you, I am quite charming~” eyes filled with rage Dean did nothing but smile a smile that even prince charming would be envious of. 

 

If not for the fact that it was a _demon_ , Sam would have been rolling his eyes at Dean's insults. As it was, he was tired of being stuck in his restraining suit, so he decided to make his presence known.

 

"Look, we just want to know if you made a contract with a witch around here say...oh, a decade or so ago?" Sam asked, stepping up beside Dean, fedora still in place. Didn't need the entirety of the demons knowing Sam was now p _art cat_. Oh, did he forget to mention, his ears were twitching like crazy trying to get free as well. 

 

Agitated as Sam was, it was kind of a bust when he stepped in, Dean was just getting started! So many yo mama jokes in his head going to waste now! 

 

“Witch? Look buddy, there are many people in today's high and dry society that hate their “normal”, everyday lives and just want to easily throw it all away for a single stupid thing, you expect me to remember who comes and who goes as decades pass me by!?” huffing her frustrations the demon, who had yet to tell them her name <rude much>, simply crossed her arms and spat at the ground an inch away from the hunter's feet.

 

“Well that's just plain gross, and rude, we're just here to have a little chat no need to get nasty,” clenching his teeth Dean hissed at the sour comment. “Ooooh to late.”

 

Sam scrunched up his nose at the spittle now laying near his feet.

 

"When's the last time you even brushed your teeth? Or even had a mint?! Your spit smells just as rotten as your--" he cut himself off there, gesturing vaguely towards her vagina. So maybe it was a little petty, but he was aiming to ruffle her feathers as she was trying to ruffle his fur.

 

“Like I said, many times before this, this was the only body within range! How about I show you how disgusting I can be by chopping off your heads and mutilating your rotting corpse!” she growled low and inhuman, her body bumping into her invisible prison cell and coming to realize just what predicament she had gotten herself into.

 

“No thank you,” Dean humbly denied the offer, “but I would be very grateful if you told us if you met a woman who sold her damn soul to become a friggen witch!” His voice rose close to the end of his sentence, slowly losing patience with the uncooperative demon.

 

“Like I said, I don't **fucking** remember! If I did, I would be singing like a canary right about now, so if you two chuckle heads would just let me go already?” She stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

 

“Well obviously she's useless,” running his fingers through his hair Dean sighed in anguish. “Time to move on to a new demon, maybe that one will be a little less...like that. The honor is yours Sammy.” Bowing sarcastically, he motioned for Sam to recite the usual demon banishing, he would do it himself, but he always did have trouble remembering those damn words. 

 

" _Exorcziamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica..._ _Ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te ... cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare... Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis... Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine... quem inferitremunt... Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!_ " Sam chanted almost mechanically, ignoring the demon's cries for mercy as he continued on.

 

"Dude, we need to find a shorter chant," Sam complained once he was finished and the demon was expelled from the woman's body.

 

“The easy route would have been to stab her but to be completely honest with you I didn't want to go anywhere near that thing,” looking down at the now unconscious woman, Dean couldn't help but give her a distasteful look. 

 

“I'm still wondering if she was even human to begin with,” holding back a shiver of utter repulsion. “She's also not getting near my car so don't even think about it goody-to-shoes,” leaving no room for argument, Dean stomped off towards his baby. 

 

Sam rolled his eyes outright this time as he caught up with Dean, "Like I would want that awful smelling thing anywhere near us where she could leave a stench behind." His nose was once again crumpled up in distaste.

 

"I read somewhere cats like funny smelling things but I don't think those people knew what they were talking about. She was just absolutely ridiculous," he went on complaining further. 

 

“Ah, I'll be sure to tell the high council of cat lovers society about your findings,” not particularly in the mood for Dean's sarcastic nature Sam shot him a look of bemusement. The look made Dean smile fondly back, somethings were just to good to pass up.

 

“Who knows maybe we'll get lucky soon.”

 

They didn't get lucky, not even close to that word that never ceases to escape their grasp. It went on for a whole week, a **week** of demon baseball with a lot of hit and misses on their end. 

 

Exhausted and agitated, Dean sat on a crappy motel couch so he could just rethink their entire situation. Maybe they were going about this the wrong way? Dean sure didn't know what he was missing, usually demons ratted out their resources rather then being sent back to hell with no other way out. Maybe they just didn't know? If that was the case, then this demon must have been a slick son of a bitch to be able to not only make it under a hunters radar, but other demons' as well. 

 

Dean rubbed his knuckles against his forehead as his own way of helping him think. Each push getting a little rougher then the last as his frustration began getting the best of him.

 

Sam was just as frustrated as Dean but seeing him sitting on the couch he simply could not resist the urge to walk over there, once again clad only in his boxers for his poor tail, and sit on the floor at Dean's feet, cuddling up to his legs and laying his head to rest comfortably on Dean's thigh.

 

"Maybe we're not asking the right questions," he suggested, tilting his head to glance up at Dean's confused face.

 

"What?" He asked, his soft smile vanishing into a frown as he tried to figure out what Dean was thinking about this time. 

 

As he looked down at Sam, Dean tried to comprehend just what the taller man was doing until his eyes landed on the flattening ears, showing how Sam felt uneasy with his stare. Sighing through his nose he reached down experimentally, scratching behind those pointy tipped ears. His nose was dying for a sneeze, but Dean held it in, not wanting to ruin this moment, whatever this moment was exactly he didn't know. 

 

“I think we're asking all the right questions Sam, either this demon is just too good, or the demon race is dumbing down a bit.”

 

Sam couldn't stop the purr from escaping this time, nor the lightening on his cheeks that came with it. So, instead of fighting it, he simply nuzzled further into Dean's thigh and closer to his hip, now openly purring at the attention Dean was giving him. Yup, he was definitely getting distracted.

 

"Maybe we should find a specialist who could give us a clue then? We can't find anything more on the Internet but maybe another witch could help," he suggested through his purrs, seeming to push his head back further into Dean's palm for more attention. 

 

A light smile lifted Dean's mood as he continued to pet and nestle his hand deep into Sam's brown locks. Seems he wasn't any better at keeping himself on the task at hand.

 

“I don't know about all that, I don't think another witch would be too keen on helping us there. And I don't want to go down that “pretend to be a wizard from Detroit” schtick again.”

 

“Aw why not!? With the cute little doey eyed kitty cat you've got there he would make a perfect familiar for you!” 

 

Both Sam and Dean were startled straight from their respective seats. Back against the wall they both looked at the intruder who did nothing give them a laugh full of humor at their actions. 

 

“You guys are hilarious,” with graceful ease the creature in the skin of a teenage boy, tossed himself over the couch to sit on one of the ledges. “Should have seen your faces, I swear nobody could put a price on that!”

 

Sam was half growling half hissing at this intruder/obvious demon, that had come into their temporary room.

 

"And who are you?" He asked, his ears flat against his head for an entirely different reason, his tail twitching, showing just how upset he was. 

 

The boy's eyes closed for the smallest of seconds, re-opening to show bright crimson eyes, a deal-maker demon, someone of Crowley's standards. Blinking away the red, the teen smiled and leaned forward in his seat, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy piece of filth. 

 

“The demon you two have been looking for, or if you want to get technical, my names Caym,” bending his arms behind his head Caym fell back onto the couch, bouncing slightly as he landed. “Not as much fun as it is watching you two trying to locate me, why _were_ you looking for me? All I heard was, blah blah blah, Winchester brothers, blah blah blah, witches, blah blah ect.” 

 

Dean's eyes narrowed at the little freeloader who just laid there languidly as if he wasn't in the presence of two masterful hunter. The kid's legs kicked in the air, his newly light blue eyes shining, as if there really wasn't just some random teenager in their room and not a demon who steals souls for a living.

 

"How many deals did you make about 10 years ago?" Sam asked, taking a chance that maybe this was the demon they were looking for, his eyes narrowing in his distrust though. 

 

The boy looked up for a moment staring with such intensity at Sam's ears and tail it made even **Dean** uncomfortable. Sitting up, the boy walked up close to the both distrusting hunters, hand on his chin surveying Sam like he was something that needed to be discovered. Then he broke out into a bright smile, making Dean once again rethink the whole demon thing.

 

“Those ears are adorable!” Dean's brow twitched at the comment, his whole body refraining from smacking his face in exasperation. “Yeah I remember every deal I make, what kind of demon would I be if I didn't keep tags on such things!”

 

Both Sam and Dean shared a look, both remembering the first demon they encountered on their little crusade. 

 

“Which one do you want to know about?” Kneeling down, Caym made a grab for Sam's tail that twitched away at each swing. 

 

Caym's wandering hand wasn't bad enough, Sam had to keep smacking at it any time he actually managed to get close to catching his tail. He didn't want to think what the demon would do if he actually caught the damn thing.

 

"There was a woman about 10 years ago that decided she wanted to be a witch instead of a normal girl..." Sam started, seeing if Caym would recognize the woman he was talking about yet, not before having to smack his hand away again. He wondered if he would get claws with this whole cat thing... That would be rather helpful right now. 

 

With a frown, Caym rubbed at his hands after getting smacked away for what? The tenth time? Counting aside, he did recall a certain memory, the one Sam had described.

 

“Well that all depends, what did she look like? I had a few around that time that wanted to be like Sabrina the Teenage Witch,” while Sam thought it over, the demon used the distraction as an advantage to grab at Sam's tail making the tall man's figure visibly tense, and fur ruffle under his fingertips.

 

“Ah-ha!” Caym cackled as he pulled the end of the tail to his face to slide across his upper lip. “Look, Kittystache!”

 

Dean's face fell at the immature act, what had they just gotten themselves into now?

 

Sam took his chance to slip his tail free and jump up on the other side of the couch slightly behind Dean. He didn't even realize what he had done not the he was perched on all fours, as his ears were once again flat and his tail twitching animatedly as he glared at Caym, doing his half growl half hiss once again. Dean was better at describing the women anyway. 

 

Caym frowned heavily as Sam stormed away from him, but he was absolutely not pouting, that he will admit to anyway. 

 

For once in his life, Dean decided to keep his comments to himself, it was probably for Sam's sake anyway, if anything the demon seemed to have more interest in him than Dean. That fact didn't sit well with him, but he had to admit, the little banter between the two was almost comical. 

 

“She had long red hair, and not the natural kind, more along the lines of “I need to make sure society knows I'm different” kind of red you know?” The demon nodded allowing him to proceed, “She had dark green eyes, her cheek's a bit on the rosy, squishy side. And as for her clothing it was along the lines of gardener lady slash biker chick which that sentence in itself is messed up. To be fair, she was one of the most inaccurate cat lady's I have ever seen.” 

 

Caym sat and thought for a moment on the description before snapping his fingers, an almost visible light flickering above his head. 

 

“Ava Brown! I remember her! She was holding a cat the first time I met her ironically enough. Around early 20's at the time, going through the whole “nobody understands” me facade. Very unappealing in a girl I gotta say.” 

 

Sam just rolled his eyes as he slowly began to relax, still situated mostly behind Dean. It seemed as though Caym wasn't going to try anything again, so Sam began loosening his tensed muscles, absently beginning to nuzzle Dean's leather seeing as it smelt like the man wearing it.

 

"Yeah. That's the one. Well, what do you know about her last few days here?" Sam asked, still eying the teenage looking demon on the floor where Sam had previously been. 

 

As Sam nuzzled against him, Dean couldn't help but think how completely un-threatening they probably looked at this very moment. But peering down at the pouting demon, he guessed the feeling was sort of mutual?

 

“If you are talking about her “sudden” death, then yeah dweeb, of course I do! It was my hellhound that clawed into her after all,” perching on his legs, Caym locked his elbows and knees together; examining his fingernails as if they were more interesting. “Ava thought it would be a good idea to try and put up a protection spell to try and keep me and my puppy out. That didn't fly too well with me so I sent Cujo to go and get her a little early from schedule. Nobody likes a sore loser you know.”

 

"Was she, by any chance, in the middle of a spell other than protection when you killed her?" Sam asked, seeming to be honestly interested now, his ears perked up and tail twitching. If he got any more excited about this break he would be sprawled across Dean's lap, his tail likely twitching back and forth under Dean's nose. 

 

Dean's nose twitched, his hand coming up to pinch the nostrils to keep from sneezing and ruining their possible big break. Caym could get way too amused over simple things, finding out he had a cat allergy of all things could have the kid rolling around on the ground laughing at the irony. 

 

“All I could sense at the time was that will of her's desperately trying to live,” drawing mindless outlines on the floor he continued. “But there were a lot of charms in there from what I could tell, so you obviously must have fucked up and touched something you shouldn't have.”

 

Sam frowned at his wording, his ears reacquainting themselves with his head.

 

"Well then I guess you can just reverse it," he hissed annoyed, once again glaring at Caym, returning to his previous position behind Dean, muscles tense once again. 

 

Caym smiled amused, not even an ounce discouraged at Sam's behavior, so he was right, pretty boy did touch something he shouldn't have.

 

“From what the rumors have told me, they said you were supposed to be the smart one kitty man. I'm a **demon** I don't know those sort of magic tricks, but I _can_ show you one I'm highly skilled at,” body inches from the floor, he tried to get a better look at Sam from his position, Dean made a pretty good shield to be fair. 

 

Before their eyes he vanished without a trace, stunned and muscles on full alert, they looked around for the devious being. 

 

“Yaaaah!!!” Caym grabbed Sam from behind, burying his face in between his shoulder blades and arms around his waist, “You're all bulky and warm! Ha I knew it!”

 

If he could have, Sam would have been on the other side of the room from Caym popping in behind him and startling the shit out of him, not literally. As it was though, Caym's sudden plunge into his shoulder blades made the still human part of Sam lose his balance and fall directly on top if Dean's lap, Caym still clinging to his waist.

 

Sam was squirming in every direction trying to get free, but as soon as he thought he might have found an opening, Caym would simply take control once again, effectively rendering Sam useless. 

 

Dean was forcibly crushed under the weight of not only Sam, but the teenage demon who you wouldn't think was actually that heavy, but he swear that kid was just a brick driving Sam harder into his back. Wheezing with each intake of breath, Dean sat up and tried to shove the two pile drivers off of him so he could once again breath naturally. Arms straight in front of him, he curled his back as if he were about to preform a push up. With Sam in such close proximity, he didn't stand a chance. A sneeze about tore off his nose as he fell back onto the floor, now sore in all places rather than just his back and legs. 

 

“Oh God, just get the fuck off me already!” He cried out in agony, looks like he found something more torturous then hell itself.

 

With a gleeful laugh, Caym did as instructed and got completely off of Sam, but not before ruffling his hair and giving a small scratch to his ears that, one again, planted against his head.

 

“You guys are fun~” Caym cooed sitting in front of Dean who was still laying flat on the floor and glaring up at the too carefree of a demon. 

 

Sam would have been rubbing around Dean, scenting him, seeking forgiveness, had the demon not still been in their presence.

 

"If you can't help us any further, then what are you still doing here?" Sam hissed, not really trying to make it a question because knowing by now the demon would give him a smartass answer, it still managed to be formed into a question though, causing Sam to force himself not to roll his eyes. 

 

“Because I'm feeling generous today~” Caym stated with a smile full of mischief. “And though I can't reverse the spell, maybe if I take a look see, maybe I could point you silly billies in the right direction.” 

 

“Oh are you kidding me? Don't take this the wrong way kid but you're a friggen demon aka an evil piece of shit. Why in the hell should we even be considering anything you have had to say?” Rolling his eyes, Dean finally got back to his feet, Sam still attached to his hip seeking some sort of comfort by the physical affection. Dean would have found it endearing, if his nose wasn't on fire at that particular moment.

 

“Well with a vocabulary like that, who in their right mind would take offense to that?” Raising his brow, Caym stalked around the room looking for anything that seemed out of place. “And I'm misunderstood, not even. People always judging me before they get to know me,” with a melodramatic sigh he pressed the back of his hand against his forehead in a “woe's me” fashion.

 

Sam did roll his eyes this time, though, it wasn't very intimidating seeing as he was still perched on all fours at Dean's feet. He relaxed his body somewhat into Dean but kept a watchful gaze on Caym as he pranced around the room. 

 

Crossing his arms, Dean watched the demon with weary eyes, if the kid even moved a finger that he deemed in an act to harm him or Sam in any way, he wouldn't hesitate to plunge the dagger, that was itching for some blood shed, right into Caym's chest.

 

“You know this would go a lot smoother if you just told me where you're keeping your little kitty charm stash,” for the first time upon his arrival Caym frowned, it was pretty annoying looking around while untrustworthy eyes just stared at him and did nothing to even move things along. 

 

With a long dragged out sigh, Dean pointed to a small desktop that was directly next to his bed. Taking the hint, Caym walked over to it and opened the first drawer. His mouth opened at the artifact inside, not even needing to take it out to investigate it to know exactly what sort of predicament the Winchester brothers were in.

 

“You wouldn't have happened to, oh I don't know, spill you're blood onto this thing, kitty man?” Looking over his shoulder Caym gave Sam a questioning look, already guessing just what the answer might be.

 

"It might have pricked my finger when I set it down earlier... Why? What difference does it make? We get nicked and pricked and poked and prodded by things all the time?" Sam questioned, his ears perking up in curiosity. Damn things! He's never be able to get away with anything at this rate! 

 

Caym let out a puff of air that only turned into uncontrollable laughter that seemed never ending. His legs grew weak with strain at trying to keep himself up, his fist pounded on the floor not caring if the neighbors downstairs grew irritated at the loud noise.

 

“Ooooh, oh this is just to much!” Caym brushed a few tears from his eyes as he tried to calm himself. “Really this is good stuff!”

 

Dean's jaw clenched, his body seething, there was nothing funny about Sam being turned into a cat, not a single **ounce** of hilarity. Though Dean would pick on Sam about his cat ears or tail, it was him who was making those comments, not some low life scum of a demon.

 

“Listen punk do you know what the hell is going on with my brother or not? Because if I don't get an answer in a second, I swear I will not hesitate to finally end your existence!”

 

The comment seemed to sober Caym pretty quickly, for a moment Dean was pretty proud of himself until the demon was invading his personal space, Sam hissing and grabbing him protectively like Dean didn't know how to take care of himself. 

 

“Hey I'm trying to be nice and you give me threats?” Caym's eyes darkened momentarily; keeping his cool he backed away from the older hunter before he did something he might just regret. Killing the Winchester brothers surely would make him well known in his world of demons, but to him that didn't sound none to appealing. Plus, the brothers were a great source of entertainment, he wouldn't want to be losing his source of fun anytime soon.

 

“Hmm now that you went and said such nasty things, I don't think I'm going to tell you why exactly kitty man is the way he is.”

 

Now Sam was hissing for an entirely different reason, "So you do know then? Well quit lolli-gagging and fix the problem!" He tried to sound intimidating...but still kneeling at Dean's feet with ears and a tail that won't stop moving, not to mention the hissing... To say he was less than intimidating would have been an understatement. 

 

“Ohhhh no, no, no, I don't think you're in any position to make demands,” with a soft coo, Caym retrieved the cat shaped relic that was still confined in a tightly sealed plastic bag. 

 

“If you seek help then I suggest you go to an Egyptologist, they'll know exactly what's wrong with you as well,” with a cocky wink, he tossed the statue in Dean's direction, who juggled the thing in a poor attempt to get an actual grip on it.

 

“Bye, bye now,” chuckling darkly, the demon vanished from their midst’s once and for all. 

 

Sam huffed at thin air after the demon was finally gone.

 

He thought that he should probably look and see where the closest Egyptologist was on his computer but...he decided a nice nap was in order instead. Jumping up onto the nearby, _hard_ , bed; he pushed and kneaded at the covers with a frown, his ears flat in annoyance. Giving up on it ever being as comfortable as their beds at the base, he just huffed and laid down on said bed. Stretching his long limbs before curling back into himself, he finally looked back up at Dean to see if the man was going to join him, only to be met with a bemused half grin on Dean's face.

 

"Dude, why are you looking at me like that?" Sam asked in a huff, his tail once again twitching as if he were agitated. 

 

“Really? Do you even realize what you just did?” Not waiting for a chance to revive a reply, or even more mad kitty ears for that matter, he continued on, “You just _clawed_ at the blankets and curled into it right afterwords! Man this is going the extra mile here, next thing you know you'll be going into heat or something!” At the end of his little rant, Sam gave him a look that Dean could only decipher as a “you're just ridiculous” look.

 

Licking his chapped lips he stayed silent, praying to whatever fucking god is actually out there and is willing to listen that he could just go to sleep and wake up the next morning and see Sam as his normal nerdy, non-cat resembling, self.

 

Dean sighed, walking over to Sam and unintentionally petting his head, something he's already grown accustomed to doing since this whole thing has played out.

 

“Once this whole thing's over, me and you are sleeping on my lovely memory foam mattress and we're staying there the whole day, no ifs, ands, or buts. And the condition is, I get to be the big spoon,” grinning down at Sam, he went over to the other side of the room to crawl into his own lumpy bed. His intention wasn't to sleep, as it was beds were a better place to think then anything else Dean had ever come across, no matter how shitty the mattress was. 

 

Sam's ears perked up at Dean's suggestion, his purrs something he was beginning to grow accustomed to as well. With a new found smile on his face, despite the earlier demon's antics, he simply lay his head down on a pillow and watched his brother think. It was always an interesting part of their process, seeing Dean work through everything they knew and try and piece it all together. He could nearly see the wheels turn in his brother's mind as he sat there, hand once again accompanying his face in his thoughts. He probably didn't even realize he did it anymore. 

 

–

As it turns out there didn't happen to be an Egyptologist in their remote area; but there seemed to be a specialist, on not only the geography of Egypt, but the Goddess of Bast herself. Scrolling past his own personal biography, certain cat statues littered his page, all resembling the one they've obtained but each telling a different story towards the Goddess. On his website it seemed Bast was a bit more of a hobby of his than actual job per-say, but it was better than nothing in Dean's opinion. 

 

They really weren't ones to go on blind faith, but this supposed Mr. Calvin could be their only lead. Deciding to give him a ring (hey the man lived all the way in California, no way was Dean driving that far out. Paying for gas in today's modern economy? No thank you.). 

 

Putting the phone on speaker, Dean let Sam take over most of the conversation, his mind more capable than Dean's when it came to speaking nerd. 

 

"So, say someone were to spill their blood on this particular statue, what would happen to that person?" Sam asked, getting eager that they were finally dealing with someone who could and likely would help them!

 

"Well, it's difficult to say... Hang on, let me see if I can find something here," Mr. Calvin said as he skimmed through one of the books he had pulled out once they had described the statue.

 

"Ah, here's something! It seems that if someone were to spill their blood, on the statue, that person could develop catlike features such as ears on the top of their head or a tail on their behind, some could even develop sharp talon-like nails like cats have," Mr. Calvin read aloud to the boys from the book, summarizing his findings. As soon as he mentioned the ears and tail Sam felt said ears and tail that he had twitch. 

 

"Might I ask though, why are you two boys so curious about this piece?" He asked anyway, not waiting for their answer on the other end of the phone.

 

“We bought a cat statue off Ebay and we wanted to know if it was cursed or not,” a hard jab to the gut later and Dean took the hint and refrained from using any sort of sarcasm toward Mr. Calvin. “It seemed to be an interesting piece of history is all, the way everyone believed such a thing existed, or if it worked, even wanted such a thing. If someone where to do this, ritual would you call it? Would there happen to be a way to reverse this curse?”

 

There was a long pause once again as Mr. Calvin read some more from the book before he answered Dean, "No. At least not that I can find. It says here that such a "curse" as you call it, was considered a gift from the goddess Bastet and is irreversible. Did something happen?" His curiosity was definitely peaked, it wasn't very often he got these types of questions without some background behind them! And if these boys had done something he would be more than willing to examine the effects! 

 

Dean's whole body slacked with the information, this was considered a fucking gift!? A GIFT!? There had to be some kind of mistake, maybe some form of miscalculation, but he knew, he knew this was no where near the lines of a joke, just their own fucked up reality.

 

“No, nothing fucked up happened, thanks for nothing jackass!” Dean didn't mean to be so harsh, the man did nothing wrong, if anything he helped them out greatly. But Dean was to blinded by rage he didn't even consider his harsh words to be as such. Hanging up the phone, he slammed it into the receiver, nearly breaking it in half with sheer force. 

 

Rubbing his hands all across his face and hair, he focused on trying to figure something out, his mind racing with a million thoughts. Nobody knew if there was a cure, only because they didn't try to get rid of their gift right? So maybe there is a cure somewhere out there. There had to be. They just had to find it! They could just...they could....they wouldn't even know where to begin. 

 

It was hard for Dean to accept defeat, tense muscles, dim eyes, he realized he had failed his brother, he failed Sam. 

 

Sam recognized Dean's slumped shoulders for what they were, him beating himself up in defeat. So there wasn't a cure then...

 

"Hey, it's not so bad is it...?" Sam asked tentatively, sidling up next to Dean and nuzzling into his shoulder, trying to comfort the oldest Winchester. With a grunt from Dean as his only reply, Sam frowned in thought.

 

"Dean, man, cheer up. I have a tail and ears. So what? It's not the worst thing that's happened to us! So I'm stuck with it, I also have some pretty awesome reflexes that could come in handy in fights with demons and other supernatural beings! It's not the end of the world because I have a couple extra parts to my anatomy. We can use it to our advantage," Sam really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes and stop talking when he doesn't need to... 

 

For a moment Dean just soaked up the words, in his haze of fury and self-loathing, they brought some form of comfort to him. If Sam could accept this, then why couldn't he? Their bodies already close, he leaned in to kiss those lips he's been neglecting to approximately a week now. They were inches apart until his nose spazzed and twitched and he sneezed across Sam's face. The youngest hunter pulled away instantly, his hands rubbing his face to remove the ick that landed there. Dean's eyes hardened once more, right there lay the dilemma. 

 

“That's the problem! Right there! My fucking body! Dammit Sam I can't even be close to you without wanting to spew my snot on every friggen counter-top!” Frustrated with the hand he had been dealt, Dean's mind went on autopilot, his fist landing against the dry wall forcing the material to break under his knuckles and split open into a huge gaping hole in the wall. 

 

Once Sam finished cleaning his face off from Dean's sneeze, he finally spoke up again, "Dude, they have allergy medication for a reason. It's not like you're the only person in the world allergic to cats. If you take the medicine as long as I don't get right up under your nose with my ears or tail you should be fine, besides, then we could do more of this--" he trailed off, pulling a surgical mask out of his pocket he kept in case Dean's allergies really started kicking in around him, and placed it over Dean's face, leaning in to kiss where his brother's lips should be under the mask. 

 

The logic in what Sam had said made sense, but it just wasn't fair to him, of course nothing in their life was fair, but he had one good thing in his life, Sam, and now the only time he could be near him is if he swallowed a stinking pill? 

 

He wasn't expecting it, Sam pulling out the same surgical mask he'd used the first night of Sam's transformation, nor the kiss that accompanied it, but it was far from unwelcome. Detaching his arm from the wall he wrapped his arms protectively around Sam's waist, drawing him in close even if the kiss couldn't be deepened at the moment.

 

“I just hate my time with you being determined by a pill. I could wake up with you close to me, start sneezing like crazy, wake you up from the sleep you actually need,” he shook his head, his depression almost worsening until Sam nuzzled his cheek. 

 

“We'll get through this, right?” Dean knew he was the one that should be reassuring rather then the other way around, but right now he needed it, needed to be told Sam and him will be ok with everything that has happened. 

 

Taking a moment to tie the top two strings around Dean's head so he wouldn't have to hold the mask in place, it was his turn to wrap his arms around Dean comfortingly.

 

"Of course we will. It's what we do. We survive. And do you know why?" Sam paused for a moment, not waiting long enough for Dean to give him a real answer before continuing on, "Because we have to. For each other. This'll just be another bump in the road that we'll find a way to get over. Because we have each other." Sam finished his little pep talk by nuzzling Dean's cheek affectionately once again, giving him a soft kiss at the base of his jawline. 

 

“I don't know Sammy...” A purr against his cheek made Dean's heart melt, though he would never admit to it, but whatever sort of small sign of affection Sam would show him, his knees would grow weak and the urge to kiss always overwhelmed him in every situation. Yup, that is definitely something he will never admit to, just thinking it made his skin prickle, but that didn't make it any less true, even if it was manifested by the love sick mind of his that he tries to suppress. 

 

“No... you're right.” Dean sighed once more, uplifted. It would take some getting used to, but maybe there were ways to enjoy the new side of Sam. Cats seemed pretty flexible if you know what he means~

 

Sam grinned as he cuddled up Dean, nuzzling his head in Dean's neck, more purrs escaping his throat. 

 

The next few weeks went by fairly normally, well, as normal as they could for Sam having a tail and ears. At the interviews he would wear his fedora but he didn't have to wear it long at the fights because eventually it fell off and it didn't take long for the rest of the demons and most of the supernatural beings to find out that Sam did indeed have ears and a tail and resemble a cat. Especially while they were fighting. Dean had been right about that at least, Sam was definitely more agile in fights now and he didn't sustain nearly as much damage as he used to.

 

However, despite the brothers beginning to develop a rhythm to help deal with Sam's kitty like appearance, Sam started noticing some slight changes within himself... He had felt almost as if he NEEDED Dean's affection lately, in more ways than one. He began getting really turned on easily at every little thing (not including fighting) and he was constantly rubbing his body against Dean's, seeking the older's touch, but he couldn't figure out where all this extra affection came from or why he was doing it...

 

Sam wasn't the only one who noticed these sudden changes, not that he was complaining about the slow lingering touches or the shared body heat, it just didn't seem like Sam at all. Both brothers, love each other as they may, never quite showed it as much as someone would say “normal” couples would. They kissed and touched, but not as much as both would consider. Either way, Dean was enjoying this new side of Sam, even if he had no idea what would bring such a thing on.

 

For awhile it was just small things like chaste kisses to his cheek and neck, a nuzzle here and there, and curling his body close to his. Then things started to pick up, those chaste kissed turned into full on licks and nips, the nuzzling became a bit more...intimate (his face planted in his crotch yes I think I would call that a bit more intimate.), and instead of curling into him, Sam would just plant himself on his lap and mewl at the contact.

 

“Whoa, whoa there cowboy. Not that I'm not enjoying this but, what the hell seems to be going on with you?” Dean questioned at an already flustered Sam. 

 

Whenever Sam started just flat out sitting in Dean's lap, he would curl his legs as close to his body as he could, his tail swishing back and forth between curling around Dean's body and coming back around his own.

 

"I don't know... I feel like... Like I need you to touch me. Like, pet me or cuddle or what not and it excites me," Sam explained, hoping Dean would catch the "excites me" for what it was. It turned him on. Although, if Dean didn't catch on to the slight shifting of Sam's hips over Dean's crotch then his brother was denser than Sam realized... 

 

Hey, when it came to sex, THAT Dean considered himself an expert in, he understood exactly what Sam was telling him. He wanted Dean, and badly if the rutting was anything to go by. He was still confused by what had brought this along, but watching Sam work himself against his body, his back bending at angles that dirty dancers would kill for, Dean found himself slowly losing his train of thought.

 

Dean's hands dug into the flesh of Sam's ass, bringing their body's flush together. Even with their bodies as close as they were, Sam continued to squirm and gyrate his body against him, apparently unable to hold still for the smallest of seconds. On hand let go of a perfect globe to map out the taught muscles of Sam's back, skimming around the planes of his shoulders before cupping back back of his neck to bring him down to his level. Dean kissed at his Adam's Apple that bounced with a swallow, a single nip had Sam mewling. With the smallest of touches Sam was being set off, that's when a thought struck Dean, making him pull back abruptly to stare at Sam in wonder.

 

“Dude.....are you in heat!?”

 

"Dude, that's not even possible! There's no way I could be in heat!" Sam protested with a frown, his nose scrunched up once again at Dean's suggestion.

 

"No, what's impossible is for you to look like a cat. But we see how that worked out," Dean retorted, gesturing to Sam's ears and tail.

 

Sam frowned even more, "Dean, I'm a guy! As far as I know male cats can't go into heat!" He would NOT accept the answer that was right in front of him; the _fact_ that he _was_ in heat.

 

“Does that even matter I mean,” a small grin formed as he looked Sam over once more, perspiration already forming over every part of his heated body, “you are the receiver of my, “god rod”.” He winked cheekily, not _entirely_ serious with the whole god rod comment. 

 

Sam couldn't decide whether to glare at Dean or roll his eyes. He settled for glaring.

 

"Just because I," a particular grind of his hips down onto Dean's slowly hardening member, "like, taking it up the ass. Doesn't mean you have to call your dick that." Sam said, getting off of Dean's lap and walking to the kitchen before the older could react and catch him. 

 

Dean couldn't help but smirk at the antic, it was just like Sam to get back at him by deleting all physical contact, or he just wanted to be chased after. Either way, heat or no heat, Sam was going to get some serious attention. 

 

Getting up from his seat, he made his way into the kitchen that shouldn't even be called a kitchen. If you had to take two steps into another small symmetrical room, it's not a kitchen. Spinning Sam around, he lowered enough to grab him behind the knees and lift him up enough to set him on the less then sturdy table. Fitting just fine between the parted legs, he rested each hand at Sam's sides.

 

“And where do you think you're going~” He growled in his possessive way that spoke to Sam loud and clear, Dean was going to fuck him. And if that meant right here, on this table, then so be it. Anyways, it'd be pretty hot if the table gave away do to their incessant fucking. That was Dean's opinion anyway, Sam might not think too highly of having splinters lodged into his back while he was being plowed into, was just a thought. 

 

"I don't _think_ I'm going anywhere, I _know i_ t," Sam said, gyrating his hips against Dean's once more before using his newly found reflexes and squirming out if Dean's clutches. He didn't know why he wanted to get away so bad when all he _wanted_ was for Dean to fuck him, but he couldn't help it. It was almost like this was a game for him. And if that was the case...boy was Dean going to be pissed if he kept this up much longer!

 

This time, he scampered away heading toward the bedroom. No way was Dean going to catch him on a table again so he could end up with splinters sticking out of his ass as Dean continued to pound him mercilessly!

 

Moments passed with Dean just blinking away his surprise when Sam moved and slipped from his clutches once more. He was alright with it the first time, but a second time? With him already hard and wanting to bury himself deep inside Sam's ass, it just wasn't sitting well with him. 

 

Following Sam's lead into the bedroom, he cornered the little -well not technically little- devil and pinned him against the wall, using his body to do so.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” He addressed along with an intense stare.

 

"Getting ready for bed?" Sam asked as an answer, not sure whether he was trying to convince himself or Dean. He tail was swishing back and forth languidly, his ears twitching around, listening for a sound that shouldn't be there but not finding anything. He couldn't stop his own hips once again gyrating forward, rubbing his and Dean's, both painfully hard cocks, together; mewling at the slim friction it brought. He knew he was trapped against the wall, but he also knew that as soon as Dean tried to turn him around, he would once again be out of the older hunter's grasp and moving on to the bed. 

 

Falling forward Dean's body smacked against the plaster of the wall. His forehead rested against the wall while his fingers drummed against it, easily showing his agitation toward the youngest Winchester. He didn't understand what was going on, nor did he like it, but given Sam's cat instincts he should show some patience for this. Sadly, he couldn't do that, he wanted Sam, and having that delicious body of his rubbing against him, only to move away given the chance, was not only annoying, but very sexually frustrating. 

 

Having enough, Dean pushed Sam onto the bed face down. The hunter slash cat gave a muffled cry at the suddenness. Crawling across his back, Dean pushed his forearm against Sam's shoulders, holding the upper part of his body down. The lower half of Sam's body shot up automatically making Dean falter in the slightest, but he wasn't going to give up that easily.

 

“No where to run this time Sammy,” growling huskily into his head Dean took the shell of it into his mouth, nibbling the appendage. “So tell me, this little cat and mouse game you had going on, was that a little something to aid in getting your rocks off or does this have something to do with those feline instincts of yours?”

 

"I don't know," he responded honestly, referring to the instincts part of Dean's question.

 

"God...Dean... Want you so bad," he groaned, trying to shift his hips against Dean's once again, but not getting more than a small movement due to Dean's weight holding him down. This caused a small whine/whimper to escape his lips at the lack of friction. 

 

Dean groaned, grinding his hips against the swell of Sam's ass, making the bottomed man hiss and claw at the sheets. To get away once more or from the flare of pleasure he didn't know, Dean hoped for the latter.

 

Carefully, Dean rose his arm to give Sam a little more free reign, but right as he did so Sam was scampering up the bed. Using his own reflexes to catch Sam, Dean grabbed his hips and forced him to stay in place. 

 

“Dammit Sam,” in his blind haze Dean drew forward and sunk his teeth into the back of Sam's neck in a hard grip, instantly stilling the other as if the bite froze him in place. Realizing what he'd done Dean pulled back enough and looked down at the indentation of each tooth. 

 

“Shit Sammy...I didn't...I mean... You ok?” He asked hesitantly, not sure if he went too far and probably pissed the hybrid off. 

 

While Dean had him pinned with his bite, Sam's tail had been languidly swishing back and forth, almost as if he had been tamed. However, as soon as Dean let go of him again to apologize, Sam had to fight his instincts not to scamper away further up the bed once again.

 

"Do that..." he hissed out, fighting not to run off.

 

"What?" Dean asked dumbly, not understand what Sam was wanting him to do.

 

"Do that...again..." he repeated, his instincts overriding his human mind as his body seemed to have a mind of its own, trying to squirm and wiggle it's way out of Dean's grip. 

 

Dean stared at his brother, in a lack for better words, dumbly; before finally getting the picture as his brother's body squirmed and tried to inch it's way up the bed. Instead of the neck, he went for the shoulder, seemingly enough having the same outcome. He grinned against the skin, due to his instincts, seems like Sammy needed to know who was in charge around here, who owned him, and who, above all else, dominated/claimed him. 

 

“Kinky,” sucking around the skin, one hand traveled south, palming at the confined arousal in Sam's pants making him squirm for a completely different reason, “looks like these instincts of yours need to be shown who's boss.” Pushing Sam onto the bed, he pressed his entire weight against him, his clothed erection alined with Sam's own concealed ass, “You're mine Sam.”

 

Seeing as Sam was still mostly human with a few added features, and instincts, instead of just staying complacent with minimal reactions, he was moaning nearly wantonly at Dean's touches. Having Dean's cock pressed against the cleft of his ass, his hand palming at his still enclosed erection. Sam was damn near begging Dean to just fuck him already. 

 

"What about...my clothes?" he asked between moans. "How're...we gonna get 'em off without me runnin' away again?" Now he was practically mewling with Dean's hand still gripping him through his jeans, rubbing up and down the line of him. It was driving Sam mad and all he wanted was more.

 

“You just leave me to worry about that,” Dean whispered against the skin of Sam's shoulder.

 

With an expertise, that he had managed through the years, Dean unbuckled Sam's belt single-handedly and with no need of propping Sam up. The hand that wasn't trapped between the bed and Sam's body grabbed the belt from the back, making the leather scratch against each belt loop. With that taken care of, his button and fly were to be undone next. Giving minimal space as he rose up, he pulled Sam's pants down enough to reveal to Dean the treasure he's been waiting to delve right into. 

 

Traveling from Sam's shoulder to his neck, Dean kissed at the none to surprising smooth skin before biting into it, his signature now; if you will. Massaging a cheek in his palm, he listened in on the noises he was wringing out of the younger man. Thumb dipping into his crack, he stopped suddenly as a warm liquid covered the pad of it. 

 

“Hmmm? You didn't happen to finger yourself sometime today have ya?” His thumb poked at the hole in question, feeling just how much lube, or whatever this was, was actually coming out. He knew it was probably very distracting, and he was curious about the answer, but he was also just fascinated in a way. 

 

"As if," Sam scoffed. "Why would I finger myself when I have you to do that for me?" He questioned, wiggling his hips in exaggeration, not understanding why Dean was asking him such a question. 

 

Dean paused and pursed his lips thinking it over before chalking it up as another one Sam's new weird primal cat instincts. Replacing his thumb with his index finger, he smeared the substance all along the length of his finger and going as far as the middle dip of Sam's back.

 

“The only reason I ask is because it seems like lube is leaking out of your ass. But it doesn't matter I suppose, easier access for me,” chuckling against his neck, Dean teased the hole by sticking the tip of his finger in and out repeatedly; the hole trying to suck him in completely, but he never gave it a chance to do so. 

 

Sam began whining softly once again, trying to push back into Dean's finger to make it go deeper. All he got in reply was Dean pulling his finger away, guessing Sam's movements. This only caused him to have a near pitiful whine escape his throat.

 

"Please Dean..." he begged, not past doing it to please himself at this point.

 

Not one to deny Sam when he begged so deliciously, Dean plunged his finger knuckle deep into the tight and soaking wet channel. He couldn't surpass his own groan of desire at the heat around his single finger. Working the finger in and out, he stretched Sam enough so he could add another and scissor them to open him up wider for something bigger to be inside. 

 

Sam didn't seem satisfied though, thrashing his body around and mewling relentlessly. Seeing how far he could take it, Dean added one last digit, it seemed too early to do so, but Sam seemed to be too deep in the throes of passion, if he could even make a complete sentence he would be begging for his dick using so many filthy words to rile Dean. 

 

“Going to fuck you so hard.” Dean murmured against the shell of Sam's ear. “Not even going to let you up, you're going to stay planted right here on the mattress as I pound away into your ass. The sheets will be you're only form of contact against your dick, and you'll come just by my dick, and the fucking bedsheets.”

 

Sam didn't think it was possible for him to get any more wanton for Dean than he already was. He was wrong. He was mewling and whining and writhing under Dean's touch and words.

 

"God...Dean...please! Just fuck me already!" Sam begged, finally, finding his voice, at least momentarily. 

 

“You know what they say Sammy,” Dean smirked almost wickedly, easily unbuttoning his pants and finally releasing his neglected cock from it's denim prison. “Be careful what you wish for,” positioning his head right at the well opened hole, he began sinking in. It sucked him in greedily, making Dean lose his resolve within minutes. He never would want to hurt Sam, but even he was going crazy from the lust and desire that built the moment Sam landed on his lap.

 

His hand pressed against Sam's cheek, making his neck crane to the side, enough for Dean to swoop in and seal their opened mouths in a sloppy, none to romantic, kiss.

 

Sam wasn't usually one to blush. Ever. But he couldn't stop the pink hue that covered his cheeks at Dean's treatment to his body. He was loving every second of it, the sloppy, wet kisses; which was more just a meeting of lips than anything else; Dean's dick, which was throbbing inside of him as well as forcefully making it's way in and out, deeper and deeper. 

 

Dean pried his lips from Sam, who tried to follow him to prolong the kiss as much as possible, but Dean wanted to hear the noises he was making and couldn't do that if their lips were attached to muffle the said noises. So, to keep his mouth occupied, he pushed Sam's hair to the side and kissed at the side of his neck. Teeth scrapping at the skin, intending to leave different marks than the previous ones he had to throw down.

 

His hands set in motion, starting from Sam's hips, mostly in a grip as his thrusts became more rough before sliding them up his sleek sides. Shoving his hands under the trapped body he rubbed at Sam's chest. Placing each nipple between a middle and index finger, he pinched them together to excite the little buds even more.

 

Sam didn't know where the sudden high pitched whine had come from. It momentarily caused his ears to perk up before he realized the moan _s_ were coming from himself. His ears flattened once again in embarrassment as well as the pleasure he couldn't deny. His tail had tried to curl itself around Dean's upper thigh as best it could under the circumstances, aka Dean pounding into him and therefore having his entire body moving back and forth. Sam definitely wasn't complaining though. 

 

That single whine sent Dean into a momentary spasm before his mind cleared enough to keep up the previous tempo. Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the feeling of the soft fur wrap securely around his leg, keeping him close and anchored to the spot. It wasn't like Dean was going to be going anywhere anytime soon, but it was still endearing nonetheless. 

 

Rotating his hips, he at last began to search for that spot inside that would make Sam positively _weep._ Every single touch sent Sam into overdrive, knowing this Dean couldn't find it sooner, knowing all to well he wouldn't even be able to finish after just a few strikes to the prostate. His own orgasm was building, so might as well give the younger hunter his own. 

 

As soon as he found it, Dean pressed himself down on Sam's back, his arms circling him to bring him in close to pound ruthlessly into that bundle inside.

 

At the first strike against the bundle of nerves deep inside him, Sam momentarily froze in pure, unadulterated bliss. It seemed all of his senses were heightened. His mind came back to him less than a second later and he positively melted in Dean's arms, mewling and whining incoherently. His body froze up again after a few more moments but for a completely different reason this time. As he felt his orgasm practically ripped from him, his seed shooting streams and streams of come across the bed sheets, his muscles clamping down around Dean's dick still pumping inside him, drawing the older hunter's own orgasm a half dozen thrusts later. 

 

Dean knew at the tight constricting hold on his dick that he wasn't going to be able to hold off much longer. Burying his face into the crook of Sam's neck, he thrusted wildly, no set rhythm, just renewed animalistic need. Hips shuttering to a stop, he coated the insides of Sam's ass a brilliant white. Groaning into his shoulder, Dean road out his high, making sure Sam took his entire load, smirking in satisfaction as some slipped past the first ring of muscle and onto his spent dick. As carefully as he could, he slipped out. Completely burned out, heaving himself off of Sam entirely he laid on his back on the other side of him, trying his best to regain the breathing he had lost. 

 

Sam looked over at Dean with a coy, satisfied smile, doing his best to control his breathing as he watched Dean try to do the exact same thing. Finally, he rolled onto his side and draped his entire body across Dean's before listening to the sound of his heartbeat, letting it lull him into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 

Dean took a moment to relax and enjoy the unusual peace before gazing at the slumbering man on his chest. Sighing though his nose, a small uncharacteristic smile crossed Dean's lips, something he can't seem to bring himself not to do whenever watching the serene expression Sam shows while he sleeps. 

 

“Man you two are better then a porno,” Dean didn't even flinch from the unexpected voice, the kid was going to show up sooner or later. “I see you were expecting me?” Caym smirked playfully, seating his head against two couch cushions.

 

“I figured as much, you seem like the type to run in and tell someone how stupid they were being,” Caym went on to put on a show, as if he had to actually think if that seemed like apart of his personality. “You knew there wasn't a cure, just sent us on a wild goose chase, and watched us as we were shot down. I guess I really should have realized there wasn't one, you about died a second time around when you saw the damn statue.”

 

The demon teen's smile returned, as bright as a demon's smile shouldn't be. 

 

“Well you're observant, apparently I didn't give you enough credit. But alas, a human's hope outweighs the horrible truth,” he chuckles with glee.

 

“I suppose so, now if you don't mind, I'd like for your rotten demon ass to leave so I can enjoy the cheesy afterglow in peace.”

 

Caym rose his hands in mock surrender, “Ok, ok~ But I hope you don't think you've seen the last of me! I've grown attached to you Winchesters~” With a small silent wave, Caym disappeared, an echoing chuckle being the only proof that he was actually there. 

 

Finally, Dean was able to return his eyes back to their previous position. One arm lay trapped underneath Sam, thankfully not crushing it, but it was free enough to circle around his shoulder and play mindlessly with those thick brown ears. They twitched under his fingertips before relaxing once more, making Dean laugh softly.

 

Maybe a Kitty Sam wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all. 

 

\--

Dean and Caym played by: Kristin

Sam and Mr. Calvin played by: Mary

 

Mary: Fuck this editing shit! I'm done! XD God, that took freaking forever!!! x.x I'm done with this shit! Peace out bitches!

 

Kris: ….Well isn't she a lovely one? We hope you enjoy because this really did take forever, well mostly me sleeping while Mary edited....but hey details am I right? lol


End file.
